Glass Roses
by Dream.on.Dreamer55
Summary: Glass roses are beautiful to behold, but easy to break.


**A/N: Another idea that's been chillin' in the back of my head for a long while now. Please read & review, it would be very appreciated! :] Something to be noted is that I have never been to England and, in extention, I've never been to London. So please just bear with me if you notice something wrong. **

**Disclaimer: I am not the genius that is J.. That being said, I do not own Harry Potter in any way, shape, or form. I do own Bernadette, Charlotte, the rest of the Monroe clan, and the story line. **

**Glass Roses  
>Chapter One: I Don't Even Know His Name..<strong>

"Looks like we've finally made it," my Dad exclaimed from the driver's seat (which should be noted is actually on the right hand side in England) of the old, slightly beat up, car we had just rented from some crappy automobile store outside of the London International Airport. The seats were all worn out, the speakers – for lack of a better word – sucked, and the engine made unhealthy sounds when you drove over 120 kilo's per hour, but Dad said it would do fine and rented it for some completely outrageous price he mistook to be an excellent deal. He didn't always have the best judgement when it came down to stuff like that.

I lifted my head off of the back of the seat to take a look out the window, while Charlotte sighed with relief, stretched out her legs, and muttered more to herself than anyone else, "Took us long enough…" From the front passenger seat. I fought the unyielding urge to roll my eyes at her impatience, and took my time to inspect our surroundings.

We had stopped in the driveway of a large, classic looking, almost mansion-like, house in the middle of the countryside – about 25 miles from the nearest town, Ottery St. Catchpole (population: 544). You could tell that the owners had taken some time to try and tidy up the outside to make it look newer. It had a fresh coating of white paint covering the walls, the dark brown trim to windows looked rather new as well, and the front porch was neatly swept. The tiled roof and the gutters had no sign of leaves or twigs hanging from it, and the lawn and garden looked kept and quite impressive. Outside, at the start of the driveway, there was an old, unused mail box that said The Diggory's in fancy, white letters. My first impression was that the whole area sort of reminded me of the Gump House in the Muggle movie "Forrest Gump" and from the exterior it looked quant and cozy. At least, that's what I thought. Charlotte seemed to have a whole different idea.

"Wow, what a dump," she whispered to us, as she stared out the windshield at our new home-away-from-home, "Couldn't they have found a better place to live? I mean, why not in an actually city, or at least the town we drove through? I don't get it…"

Dad shot her a disapproving look, "Hey, don't act so ungrateful. At least we have a place to live for the summer. Amos has been very kind to let us stay with him until we find our own place here, and so has his family. If I were you I would keep my mouth shut."

"I like it," I said casually, "It seems nice. It sucks that Mom had to stay back home and work. I think she would've really enjoyed it here." My mom was a professor at the University of Calgary. She taught an Architecture 101 class, which was kind of cool, but she had the tendency to have minor spaz attacks whenever we downtown or really anywhere with tall-ish buildings.

"Yeah, she probably would have, wouldn't she?" Dad said, "Now, enough chit chat. Let's grab our luggage and head to the house. I'm sure by now Amos has noticed our arrival, and we wouldn't want to keep him waiting." He took the keys completely out of the ignition and opened his door.

"Fine," Charlotte said grumpily, before wrenching open her door, sliding out gracefully, and slamming it shut. I sighed loudly, thankful that no one could hear me. I more than understood that Char was still a little pissed about moving and all that, but her attitude was really started to get to me. I grabbed my iPod and bag off the seat beside me, and then proceeded to follow the two out of the car.

It was a warm day, with only a slight breeze and a few clouds in the sky, perfect Quiditch weather. Dad popped the trunk and started unloading our bags. I bent down to grab my own in one hand, slung my smaller bag over my shoulder, and then took Charlottes bag from her. It was funny to watch her struggle to an extent, but after a while it just got pathetic.

"I can do it," she mumbled, but I just shook my head.

"Don't worry, I got it. I can only watch you attempt to lift it for so long. After a while it just gets sad. It's not that heavy anyway." She finally gave in and let me handle it, but looked back over her shoulder as we walked up the steps of the house.

"You sure? Because I don't mind –"

"I told you I got it. Like I said, I can't watch your attempts to lift your own suitcase anymore."

Charlotte's face expressed her annoyance at my oh-so-humble observations and she opened her mouth to say something - probably rather nasty - back at me, but was cut off by Dad who had just rang the doorbell, "Will you two stop bickering, please? Just for a few seconds. I don't know if I can take it anymore."

We both mumbled half hearted apologies, while he threw us a warm smile. Suddenly the door was open and a short man stood in front of us.

"Robert Monroe!" he cried ecstatically, a large smile plastered on his face. Dad instantaneously broke into one of his famous toothy grins before greeting the man with matching enthusiasm.

"Amos Diggory, it's good to see you again! It's been how long?"

The man named Amos laughed loudly before answering, "Too long, my old friend. Come in, come in, make yourselves at home!" He ushered us wildly into the house and shut the door behind us. The interior was just as orderly and trim as the exterior. The floors were all made of a dark kind of wood and the walls were painted warm colors. A few family portraits and paintings littered the walls in no particular order.

Once we were all inside, I took a really good look at the man named Amos. He was a bit short, and had chestnut hair flecked with grey. His warm brown eyes were the color of chocolate and his smile looked absolutely glued to his face, like he was always wearing it. "I can't even begin to tell you how excited we are to have you here. We'll give you a full tour of the house in due time, and you can just leave your luggage over there by the wall. Have you eaten anything?"

"Amos let them breathe before you start the interrogation." A woman I hadn't noticed before lightly chastised him, placing a hand on his shoulder and sending a smile our way. She was slightly taller than Amos and elegant, with shoulder length blonde hair and intelligent grey eyes. Beside her stood the absolute most handsome guy I had ever seen in my entire life and who I assumed was the couple's son.

He was tall, obviously getting that from his mother, and extremely well built with messy golden brown hair on the top of his head. His skin was lightly tanned and his eyes were grey, like the ocean on a stormy afternoon. His gorgeous lips held a light smile and he stood with amazingly good posture. Honestly, if there was one thing I would remember most about that kid, it was how straight he stood. Anyways, the boy stuck out like a sore thumb, and yet he fit in perfectly. It looked like he should've belonged on one of those paintings with all the angels. I know you must think I'm over exagerating, but really that's the way I remember it.

I abruptly noticed I was unabashedly staring directly at the poor boy when it was drawn to my attention that he was staring right back at me. I quickly adverted my eyes, feeling an unwelcome warmth creep up my neck and reach my cheeks with embarrassment. I fleetingly wondered why he was looking at me, and then started to worry about whether or not he thought I was a complete creep for staring like that at him. _Well isn't that just great, hey Bernie? You managed to scare off the most gorgeous guy you've ever met in your entire sixteen years and it's only been the first five minutes. You don't even know his name yet!_

I chanced a quick glance up at him again at saw him staring at the ground looking rather embarrassed himself, a light flush coloring his cheeks. I was instantly confused. What did he have to be so embarrassed about?

The kindhearted laugh of Amos Diggory drew me out of my 'moment' when he replied to, who I assume to be, his wife, "You're right, darling, of course. And I realize now that a few introductions are in order."

My father smiled and said, "Yes, I do believe that would be a good idea. I'll go first, shall I? I'm Robert Monroe, as I'm sure you know. And these are my daughters, Charlotte," He gestured to Char, you gave them all a small smile and waved her hand awkwardly, "And Bernadette, who would probably prefer it if you all called her Bernie." As he said this, he motioned to me.

I raised two fingers up to my head in a sort of mock salute and shone one of my best smiles, while saying, "Yeah, I would."

Amos smiled at the two of us and held out his hand for us to shake saying that he was pleased to meet us. When I grasped his hand he gave a hearty laugh before saying, "Nice firm grip you've got there. I like it," He beamed at me, while I thanked him, and continued with what he was saying, "I'm Amos, and this is my family. Olivia, my wife," He gestured to the woman behind him, "And Cedric, my son."

The two stepped forward and offered their own hands. "It's a pleasure to meet all of you and thank you so much for letting us stay here in your house. It's really very kind of you." I said as I moved to shake Olivia's hand.

"It was no trouble at all dears, don't worry about it." She replied with a large smile.

I turned to Cedric and went to shake his hand. The moment the two of us touched I felt this spark pass from his hand into mine and I gentle shiver ran down my back. It wasn't like one of those shivers you get when you have the feeling you are being watched or something like that. This was a good one. Completely different from anything I'd ever felt before. It left my brain whirling and all my nerves dancing underneath my skin. In an attempt to hide the way I reacted to his touch, I smiled at him and said, barely above a whisper, "Hey,"

He smiled sort of timidly at me, but it still sent butterflies flying around in my stomach. I could tell that this was going to be an interesting summer, especially when he replied with a voice like velvet in the same tone I had used, "Hey,"

**Okay, first chapter up. I coudn't find the name of Cedric's mom so I kinda improvised.. Review! :]**


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